Of Swing Sets and Snow Falls
by Pomodoro Crisi
Summary: Lovino is upset by Antonio's...greeting of Feliciano. Fail summary is fail...


_Of Swing sets and Snow falls_

Lovino kicked his feet, lazily pushing his swing. His fingers were numb where they gripped the swing's chains, his toes slowly joining them each time his boots dug into the snow. The sun was quickly setting, casting an orange glow on the otherwise bleak sea of while and dropping the temperature with each passing minute. Perhaps he should have grabbed his jacket before attempting to drown his sudden depression in solitude, but that would have meant walking past the very cause of his suffering. Not as if they'd notice him sneaking out, with their hands all over each other and their laughter reverberating throughout the house. He wouldn't have cared if it was Francis touching Feliciano as if his life depended on it - not that he would enjoy it much either, but it was Francis. Or even the potato bastard because then he would have something to blackmail the asshole with when they were sober again. But he just couldn't stand to see him doing it. Those green eyes bright with amusement and sparkling with the drinks he'd already imbibed that night. Lovino had never been a lightweight - unlike the two trying to smother each other - but he wished, just for a moment, that he had the ability to drink himself into oblivion. If only to forget the sight of him kissing his little brother.

Mistletoe or no mistletoe, it was cruel and unjustified punishment for…he didn't even know what he'd done wrong! He'd actually been nice lately. He'd called Antonio a bastard only twice a day and he'd only sent three death threats to Ludwig that month - as much as it pained him to waste the other ones he'd come up with. But no, he was still being punished; still being forced to watch his brother jump on the man he loves as if he were Francis. And that bastard, that curly-haired, lying, conniving bastard, had the nerve to ask him if he'd wanted to go next. Like he wanted his brother's sloppy seconds. He'd wanted to scream at him, tell him exactly where to put his stupid offer, but by the time his mind caught up with reality and he opened his mouth to do just that, they were already back to attacking each other. How they could feel comfortable doing that in front of him was beyond him.

Regardless, he couldn't watch that shit anymore. He'd had to leave before he snapped in front of them. And now he was stuck out in the grayness of the night, freezing to death because he was too stubborn to go home and get his coat. Maybe he'd have to get a few fingers amputated, like that girl in one of Alfred's stupid thriller movies. The he could blame the debases and they would have to take care of him. Or maybe not. Feliciano would probably cry of he let that happen…

Shit. He just needed heat.

Which magically appeared over his head. Had he gotten some of those super powers Alfred always bragged about?

"Silly Lovi, why would you run outside without your jacket? Didn't I teach you better?"

Or perhaps the cause of his troubles had caught up to him like always. He glared at the smiling green eyes as he slipped on his jacket, wishing desperately for those stupid powers.

"Probably because I don't enjoy watching my brother making out with perverts."

Antonio cocked his head. "Eh? What pervert was Feli making out with? I didn't see anyone else in the house."

Dear God, this guy was dense.

"You, moron. You were making out with Feliciano, you fucking bastard."

"Qque?" he blinked dumbly. "When did we do that? Are you sure you're not just seeing things, Lovi?"

Lovino wanted to scream. Not only was the jackass playing dumb, but he was calling him crazy. Perhaps it was time to face the facts. Antonio was never going to figure this shit out on his own. It was time to give up.

Antonio nodded, as if he'd expected Lovino's silence, plopping himself down on the snow and pulling his knees up to his chest. He gazed up at Lovino as he rested his chin on his folded arms, Lovino told himself he was imagining the smirk.

"Would Lovi happen to be jealous of something?"

"As if, bastard. There's nothing to be jealous of." He turned away from the Spaniard, pretending to be interested in the way the flickering street light illuminated the snow. He did not, however, turn so Antonio wouldn't see the heat rising in his cheeks. That would have been too feminine. No, he just didn't want to look at Antonio right now.

"Ah, so I was right."

"Right about wha-"

Lovino had turned to demand an explanation, only to be assaulted by the same lips that had attached themselves so wantonly to Feliciano before. He wanted to pull away and scream at the idiot for even thinking he could get away with something like this. He wanted to run and hide because he was actually _happy_ that Antonio had left Feliciano to come out in the cold and kiss him. But Lovino did nothing. He sat under Antonio on the swing, holding on to the chains for dear life, and kissed the bastard back. He kissed him the way Feliciano couldn't and refused to let him go once he started. Not like he was going to move anytime soon, what with the pleased sounds that reverberated through their joined lips.

It was bliss, perfect bliss.

Until Antonio decided it was time to go inside and proceeded to pick Lovino up and carry him back to the house. The Spaniard would be sporting a beautifully bruised ribcage in the morning for that.

Feliciano was nowhere to be found when they returned. Though when Antonio ignored this in favor of the bedroom, Lovino had no complaints. Other than being carried like a girl. Which Antonio gladly made up for.

~_Pomodoro_~

Lovino sighed, hours later as he tucked his head in the spot where Antonio's shoulder met his neck, he'd have to yell about Feli helping Antonio trick him another day. Perhaps during their next 'family dinner' so Ludwig could join in the fun.

* * *

**Yeah, so I was looking through pics of Antonio and there was one that made me think of him sitting out in the snow with Lovi and this popped up. Mostly, it was to help with my wonderful depression that's fueling another Spamano fic I'm writing that's based on things that are actually happening in my life, so yeah. I don't really care if it's crappy, but I'll probably come back and mess with it when I'm feeling better. **

**I hope it's not too bad though...  
**


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